Regrets:. part one
by Kasumi Mizuhana
Summary: James looks back on his life and his decision to join Team Rocket. Dedicated to J.D. Salinger (no, he's not dead). Rated PG-13 for language.


When I think of all the questions people have asked me over the years, the most common one seems to have been, "Do you have any regrets?"

My answer always surprises them. I guess it's more mature then they're used to me being. I tell them, "Regret is a waste of time."

I mean, think about it. What happens when you regret? Does it change anything? Regret can't return lost happiness or bring back the dead. It just makes you feel all sorts of crappy, and then what are you left with? Nothing, that's what. No one likes being around someone who feels crappy all the time.

But I'm getting off the subject. 

I think the most times at a given length that I've heard that question was when I made my decision to join Team Rocket. I just think how lucky I was that my parents didn't really give any kind of damn about where I was at the time, because you can bet I'd never have heard the end of it.

As it was, I took a lot of criticism from my friend, Kurow. He knew me back, _way_ back, from before I even joined that bike gang. It was December when I told him, and we hadn't seen each other in months. I asked him to meet me at this rather posh café on the upper side of Celadon City. I told him I had something I needed his opinion on. He said he'd be right there, at 12:00 right on the dot.

He was fifteen minutes late.

I had already gotten a table for us, and I was trying to explain to my waitress that I'd asked for a _diet_ Pepsi, and not a _regular_ Pepsi, but she didn't speak English very well, and **you** try to explain the difference to an irritable waitress sometime. It's not easy, I'm telling you.

I'd finally given up on the whole thing when Kurow walked in. He looked just the same as how he did the last time I'd seen him, except that he was wearing his hair shorter now and he had some stubble above his lip.

I got up to meet him, and I couldn't help but give him a big, goofy brother-hug…I hadn't seen him in so long. He laughed and we both sat down.

"Ah, Jimmy, Jimmy," he said to me as he eased into his chair. "I guess the only time you're free to call me is when you're leaving town."

I laughed, somewhat uncomfortably. The last time we'd met like this, after a long interval, I mean, I'd just run away from home.

"I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch," I said. "I've been trying to figure some things out lately."

"Which brings us here, I gather." He lit up a cigarette and took a drag. 

It's always the upper crust kids that start smoking first, have you ever noticed? I mean it. If I'd stayed two more years in that stuffy mansion I'd be up to three packs a day.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," I told him, waving away a stray puff of smoke. 

"You're such a grandma, Jim," he said with a laugh.

"I somehow doubt you'll be saying that when I tell you what I've been meaning to say."

"Oh, _really _now." He put out his cigarette and got very, very serious all of a sudden.

I didn't know quite how to start, so I began the only way I know how to when I'm edgy; I stammered.

"I…I've been asked to join this…organization," I was playing with my hair when I said it. I let it grow long specifically in part because I'm a very nervous person, and that's what I do when I'm nervous. I play with my hair.

"What kind of organization? What, like the _mafia? Are you going all Al Capone on me, Jim?"_

"Don't laugh about it, Kurow, I'm serious." Why did I feel so nervous all of a sudden?

"My apologies, princess. Go ahead." His fingers started rapping on the table. You could tell he was missing that cigarette already.

" See, I've become pretty close with this girl recently…"

"A _girl?" He looked very confused all of a sudden._

"_Yes, a __girl. What made you say it __that way? As if I'd never…"_

"Oh, man," Kurow shook his head. "I had you all wrong…"

"What did you think I was…_gay, for heaven's sake?"_

"Well if the shoe fits, Jimmy. Or if the high-heeled pump fits, more accurately."

"Cross-dressing doesn't make you a homo_sexual, Kurow. Jesus Christ." I was becoming very uncomfortable._

"What's it _make you, then?" _

"I suppose," I began very sarcastically, "that I should be so ever damn thankful that you still keep me company, what with me being _gay and all. It's very __big of you."_

"Hey, I never said there was anything _wrong with it, Jim. I mean I don't have any problem with it, as long as you never tried anythi—"_

"_Off the subject! We're getting off the subject!" He can be quite a frustrating person to talk to, Kurow, if he's in one of his moods._

Just then the waitress came and we had to order. Kurow ordered a cheeseburger deluxe platter, and I just asked for another soda. At this point I didn't care whether it was diet or not, so long as she didn't spit in the damn thing.

"So, who's this girl you were talking about? Do I know her?"

"I don't know. She's with the bike gang, so you may have seen her."

"The nefarious bike gang," he smirked. Then he rolled his eyes a bit thought a moment. "That girl with the tattoos?"

"God, no." I started chewing on one of the ice cubes from my empty soda glass. "You know that girl with the red hair?"

"That crazy one that swings around the chain all the time? The one that wears her skirt so scandalously short?" He was getting interested, you could tell.

"Her name is Jesse. Yeah, that's her."

"Ha! You like `em that rough Jimmy?" He laughed some more. It's nice he was having such a great freaking time.

I ignored him, anyway. "She recently got involved with this organization called `Team Rocket'," I told him. "They're very heavily involved in the Pokémon black market."

"Oh, Jesus, Jim, don't tell me that. For Christ's sake…"

"What? You haven't even let me finish! I haven't finished a sentence since you got here."

"I don't need you to finish. Jimmy, do you even _know about Team Rocket? I mean have you even __heard of them before?"_

"Of course I've heard of them. I met with their boss."

"Jimmy, you've already gone in too deep. These people aren't your everyday thugs, alright? They're _evil. I just read about them in the friggin whatchamacallit…the `Times. They __kill people, James."_

"They don't _kill, Kurow. Honestly. You can't believe everything you read in the paper."_

"I can't believe _you. The friggin __bike gang is one thing, for Christ's sake. They're not __criminal, at least."_

"Could you keep it down, please? The waitress is coming."

He kept quiet long enough for the waitress to give us our food and walk away. Longer than that, actually. For a whole five minutes he wouldn't say a word. He just sat there, facing the other way.

"I take it you don't think I should join?"

"No, I don't."

"Why not, exactly?"

He turned all the way around then. "I'll tell you why not, _exactly." He was getting very loud again. "Aside from the fact that they're a bunch of murdering thieves…"_

"They don't _murder, I said!"_

"…You would never make it in a group like that." He started shaking his head in this sort of defiant, know-it-all way. I felt an overcoming anger edge on.

"That's precisely why I'm joining. Jesse said it would be a great experience for me. I would get to know the streets and…"

"Going to a God damn _spa is a great exp__erience for you, James. `Precisely why I'm joining'. Christ almighty. Are you even __listening to yourself when you talk?"_

"You don't understand, Kurow. This is just what I need right now. I need to go out there for myself and prove to everyone that I can choose my own path, and live my own life, for a change."

"And you're gonna get all that from Team Rocket? Don't make me laugh."

"You don't understand!" I said again. "How could you?"

"Hey! Listen, James. You grew up in a damn mansion, okay? Not a prison. Don't try and tell me about your lousy God damn childhood, okay, because you have no idea…"

"Thanks. Thanks a lot, Kurow." I got up, very shakily. I could _feel myself turning red. _

"Where are you going?"

I slammed a wad of money on the table and took my coat.

"Good bye, Kurow. Thanks for all your support."

He stared in disbelief as I walked off. 

"Hey! Don't you do this, James! Jimmy! Come on!"

Anger and sadness made the tears in my eyes even hotter. Part of me begged to stay, but my pride won over. I had to prove a point now.

"James! Come on, buddy! Don't do this."

"Good bye, Kurow." I didn't look back until I reached the door. His eyes pleaded with mine not to go.

"James…"

"I'm sorry."

I stepped out onto the sidewalk and let the door shut behind me. I still remember that last thing…the last words he shouted as I walked away.

"You'll regret this!"


End file.
